Help, I'm alive
by Pilotofmymind
Summary: Sometimes things can change with the littlest moments; sometimes a moment longer, a moment together; a moment that makes you realize you do love someone; sometimes one little moment can change your entire life. L/R
1. Prologue

/_We might kiss when we are alone_/_When nobody's watching_/_We might take it home_/

He's been sitting on the hood of his car for the last thirty minutes. He should be watching the gates, but he's watching the road; he's waiting for someone. He's waiting for something to make this all better; he's waiting for his whole life to change. He's waiting because he can't do anything else.

The glint of sunlight off of the blue hood of the Charger is almost blinding; but he just smiles. This is it. This is the day they've all been waiting for; the day that's going to fix their lives. They're late, but he doesn't think it matters. The sound of the gates rattling almost makes him turn his head; but he can't look, because if he looks then he might cry.

Sliding off of the hood of his car, he watches as Vic's car comes closer; he's sure he just heard his name being called from the gates; but he doesn't start to turn yet.

Vic is getting closer, faster now; and he's glad to see that Shane is in the passenger's seat. They all need to be here for this today; they all need to get things back in order.

And besides that the expression on Shane's face is worth all of this; yes, let the bastard suffer.

The crunch of gravel beneath a boot is almost unbearable; and he wants to turn; but he can't, not yet. He hears his name again; he hears the confusion; and he can see tears in Vic's eyes.

These last two years; all of this suffering, everything bad; this makes it all better.

Losing their lives; maybe that was worth it, too.

The feeling of unease, the tension inside, hasn't left him yet; but he turns anyway; and he can't stop grinning; and he can feel the tears in his own eyes; and it's so awkward that they both stop; and stand staring at each other for what feels like a lifetime, and then finally he speaks; "Lem-it's… it's good to see you again, man."

It doesn't hurt when Lem holds him tighter than necessary.

It hurts when Lem's touches linger a little longer than necessary, though.

Their reunion doesn't last long enough before Vic is running over, his car door hanging wide open; and wrapping Lem into a hug. A loving father's hug. Shane looks awkward, but the tension melts away when Lem hugs him, too.

And Ronnie feels like things can get back to normal, again.


	2. 1

/_Many years ago, he looked out through a glassless window_/_Didn't understand/Watch what he saw/_

The fact that he didn't have any money, or anywhere to go when he got out, had slipped their minds until the end of the night. Upon realization of this fact, Ronnie had insisted that Lem come home with him. It had been a little awkward, as soon as they had gotten back; almost as if they were both waiting on something to happen to take them further than where they were; and Ronnie had gone to bed, feeling as if he was forgetting something; leaving something behind.

But he didn't, really, get the chance to think about it; to dwell on it. He was busy with work, and Lem was busy trying to get work. He would come home at night, and the place would be clean; dinner would be waiting; and so would Lem. When he had time they would sit and watch a movie together; most nights, however, they caught up on things; he told Lem lies to keep him there; and Lem pretended to believe the lies.

He wanted things to be right between them; he wanted, he realized things to be… _more_ between them. He wanted there to be a _them_. He didn't understand why he was feeling this way; why he was pining after Lem when he never had before, so he just chose to ignore it; hoping it would go away. And yet knowing it wouldn't.

* * *

"You know something" Shane was saying as Ronnie walked into the room, "I think Lem might be… a little suspicious of us." Raising his eyebrow Ronnie closed the door to the clubhouse, and took a seat at the table, and sipped his coffee, turning his attention to Vic as the older man paced the room,

"Of us?" he echoed, and Vic stopped moving to look at him, frowning, "I… what are you talking about Shane?"

Exchanging glances, the two men turned their attention back to Ronnie, "Didn't you ever wonder" Shane drawled, "just why Antwon Mitchell never tried to get back at us, by getting at Lem?" Ronnie's expression went from carefully neutral to aghast, and Shane looked away; while Vic heaved a sigh and came over to sit next to Ronnie.

"Ronnie-" Vid said softly, putting a hand on Ronnie's shoulder, hoping to reason with the other man,

"No!" Ronnie snapped standing up, and glaring down at Vic, "You said we were-you promised me, Vic! You said we were clean!" he didn't care how hysterical he sounded; didn't care about the way Shane was looking at him right now,

"I had to do this, Ronnie!" Vic snapped standing up as well, and looking up at Ronnie with a determined expression; it was quite clear that he was ready to make Ronnie believe what he was saying; perhaps he even needed to convince himself of it,

"Bullshit!" Ronnie hissed, and to Shane and Vic's surprise, he turned around and walked out of the room.

Standing up from his seat slowly, Shane looked at Vic; obviously worried about what Ronnie might do. "He won't turn on us." Vic said reassuringly; though in all honesty he wasn't sure. Ronnie had never stormed out on them like that before; and it was incredibly rare for the other man to ever get annoyed; let alone angry. "He just needs to think it over." Shane still didn't seem entirely convinced, so Vic patted his shoulder slightly, and glanced toward the door, "It's Ronnie, Shane."

* * *

"Hey man" Ronnie looked up as he closed the door behind himself; he hadn't expected Lem to be at home when he had started back, but he supposed he was glad the other man was here, "you're back early." He said as he stood up from where he was kneeling on the floor in front of the couch.

"Yeah, I…" frowning Ronnie motioned toward Lem as he pulled his phone out of his pocket, "I'm taking a personal day." He said shrugging as he started a text, "What are you doing over there?" he asked as he started toward the kitchen.

"I…" Lem hesitated as he looked down at the carpet, "spilled some grape juice." Ronnie involuntarily gasped, which caused Lem to look up at him, confused, noticing Ronnie's shocked expression Lem furrowed his brow, "I, uhm, I'm sorry Ronnie. I'll clean it?"

Shaking his head slightly Ronnie took a tentative step forward, and rested his hand on the back of the arm chair (Lem hadn't recognized from before; in the house he hadn't thought someone on Ronnie's –_real_-salary would ever be able to afford) and peered at the spot where Lem had spilled the grape juice; watching Ronnie, Lem was surprised to see him look… sad. "It's-… it was my moms." Ronnie said after a slight hesitation, Lem seemed confused, and Ronnie forced a smile as he turned away; and started toward the kitchen, closely followed by Lem.

"She died." He said as he placed his phone on the counter, before resting his hands, on the counter, and looking out the window, "About three months after you were locked up." He shrugged slightly as he added, "That rug is one of the few things she left me."

"Oh man-" Lem's voice was soft; as if he were afraid to speak, "I…" he paused; remembering the time Ronnie had-one of the very few times-spoken of his mother making him hand wash her oriental rugs as a child, "I had no idea, Ronnie." He was still speaking softly; and Ronnie realized it must be because he was worried about him snapping; breaking (_finally_).

"You didn't know." He said softly, looking over his shoulder at Lem; surprised to see the other man so close he frowned and shifted slowly; turning to face him, "It's my fault. I didn't… I didn't tell you." The fact was, he realized; everything that was going wrong with his life was his fault; because he just didn't talk enough; didn't let people know how he was feeling; when there was something wrong; didn't let them see that he was, in fact, a human being perfectly capable of _feeling_. "I'll clean it." He added, and Lem frowned, "I know how to get grape juice out of it, because… I did the same thing, before." He had been eight, but that didn't matter; because Lem looked a little less nervous, now.

* * *

**A/N: A few years ago I had the thought '_What if Lem hadn't run off? What if he had gone to prison?_' I thought that might make an interesting fanfiction. A good character study. But then the series continued; and the later happenings hinged on Lem's death; I might even go so far as to say that losing Lem destroyed them, and their fragile friendship.**

**And then I thought this kind of fic wouldn't be able to work for another reason; Vic had changed his ways, and he wouldn't be able to do what I had planned to keep Lem safe, inside.**

**And then I thought; Vic would do it for Lem. He just wouldn't let him know.**

**'Tis will have slow updates.  
**


	3. 2

/_Twenty years now runnin' scared of all of your dreams_/_Is it everything you thought it would be?_/_When you come back, I'll be alright_/_On your own again, back to where it all began_/_The phone don't ring and the tears they fall_/_But you carry on and on and on_/

It wasn't late, but he felt tired. Maybe it wasn't a physical tired, he thought, perhaps he was mentally worn out over the things that had happened with Vic, and Shane yesterday. Over realizing that things never changed with them; and never would (and Ronnie could still remember a time when Lem angrily accused Vic of keeping him at arm's length because he had to keep Shane close, because it was back 'to business as usual'; of course, at the time Ronnie had become aggravated, but lately… he was beginning to see Lem's point.).

Of course he couldn't tell Lem about it, and he couldn't talk to Vic about this; and Shane would just call him a pussy for bringing it up; but he was worried, and they should be, too. It was a little early to be drinking; but as he sat at the bar he threw all of his worries to the wind; breaking logic he ordered a whiskey.

There were several glaring predicaments he needed to deal with right now, but he had no idea where, or how to start with it. He wanted to make sure things stayed the way they were now; with Lem being happy to stay at his house, happily sitting down to lunch with them; happy to make, and eat dinner with him every night.

The more he thought about it, the more he realized he was just worried about losing Lem (before he really got a chance to _have Lem_). He didn't want to lose the only person in the world that meant anything to him right now; and forever more if he was lucky. But if he left it up to Shane and Vic he wouldn't have a choice but to lose Lem.

Well, he wasn't going to let it get that far; and the same way the whiskey was burning his throat, he felt determination burning him from the inside out. He was going to find Vic, and Shane's connections; and he was going to break their bridges.

There was no way they were going to make him lose Lem, again.

* * *

"He still isn't answering his phone." Shane sighed as he flipped his phone shut, and slipped it into his back pocket, watching Vic, and trying to pretend he wasn't concerned with the situation at hand; the situation he had caused.

Glancing back at Shane, Vic sort of grinned and shook his head, "Ronnie will be fine, Shane. This is Ronnie, and money we're talking about. Just give him some time-… and for Christ's sake, stop calling the man." Vic snapped the last part as Shane pulled his phone out of his pocket,

"I-I'm not calling Ronnie, this time!" Shane insisted as they walked toward Vic's charger, where Vic promptly slammed a young Latino man against the trunk, and pulled his own phone out, "I'm calling Mara. I want to check on Jackson, he wasn't feeling good." Vic gave him a _look_ that seemed to say 'you're lying to me', but Shane ignored it and turned away.

Just as Shane was opening his phone it rang, almost making him jump, answering it he raised it to his ear, and turned back toward Vic, "Yeah?" he tried not to sound too eager, but it must have showed in his voice, because Ronnie laughed,

"Hey," Ronnie drawled on the other end; trying not to sound as drunk as he was, "I've been thinking about this, Shane-"

"Thinking about what?" Shane asked, cutting Ronnie off, and looking at Vic; clearly confused. They had never talked about this stuff on the phone before and he didn't intend to start now; and there was no reason Ronnie should, either; unless he was… trying to trap them; turn on them. "Where are you?" Shane added quickly before Ronnie got a chance to talk again, "Vic and I are doing some shit, but we could come meet you."

"Okay." Ronnie said, and Shane gave Vic a surprised glance, "I'm at-at… a bar." Shane shook his head, raising a hand to rub his eyes, letting out an exasperated sigh, "Vic'll know where." Ronnie added, and hung up, and Shane lowered his phone. Looking at Vic, who was watching him expectantly; almost nervously "He's waiting for us at a bar. Says you'll know where." Shane said as he slipped his phone into his pocket, and pulled his cigarettes out.

"Let's drop this guy off at the barn, first." Vic said, but he didn't reassure Shane that he knew where Ronnie would be.

Closing his phone Ronnie rested it on the counter, and looked up at the bartender; he looked vaguely familiar, but Ronnie wasn't sure why. Maybe he had been the bartender when he used to come here with Vic; though Ronnie thought he remembered that bar tender as a heavy set white man; not a fit young Latino.

"If Vic Mackey shows up here looking for me" Ronnie drawled as he stood slowly, carefully, "tell him I wasn't here." Tossing some money onto the counter Ronnie turned and began to leave; not noticing the way the man's eyes followed him out of the bar. Climbing into his car Ronnie started toward the barn; obviously if Vic and Shane were looking for him, they wouldn't be there to stop him from… borrowing the equipment he needed to take out some of the dealers in the area.

Obviously he wouldn't turn on Vic, and Shane; that would be ridiculous. But he was going to make it impossible for them to continue their operations. And in the end, they would thank him.

As soon as they walked into the bar Vic focused on the bar tender; he knew that man. He and Ronnie had arrested that man. Motioning Shane to stay back, Vic approached the bar, and pulled his sunglasses off, "Shithead." He snapped, and the bartender glared at him, but remained silent, "Where's my partner? He was here getting drunk."

The bartender-Alejandro if Vic recalled correctly-remained silent and shook his head, feigning ignorance; "No pig's been in here, holmes." He said grinning condescendingly at Vic, causing the man to become irritated,

"If anything's happened to him-you're the first scumbag I'll visit!" Vic snarled, knowing full well he wouldn't be able to do anything to make this shithead talk when they were surrounded by pedestrians.

* * *

"Hey" Ronnie said as he zipped the duffle bag up, and looked up at Dutch who was standing in the doorway, "you looking for Vic?" he asked as he picked the bag up; seemingly unaware of how heavy it was, and approached Dutch.

"Actually I was looking for you." Dutch said as he tapped the folder he was holding against the palm of his hand, "Do you think you can help me out on this case?"

Hesitating for a moment Ronnie glanced toward the entrance, before setting the bag on the floor, and taking the folder from Dutch, "What do you need my help with?" he asked, as he began reading the files; he was surprised to see that the case was rather drug related; why hadn't this been given to them?

"Well, I was hoping one of my sources was wrong, and… you can help me check and make sure it is." Dutch said as he watched Ronnie read the file; watching the concern, and defeat sink in, "I… I wanted to give you a chance to try to sort this out before the captain sees this. His prior alone will give cause to have him arrested, and I just-… I never believed any of that, anyway. Do you think you can-"

"Yeah, Dutch. I'll talk to him. Why don't you stop by tomorrow-lunch, and we'll see if we can sort this out." Ronnie said; trying to keep the tone of his voice indifferent as he handed the folder back to Dutch, "I have to go do this sting. I'll… I'll talk to him as soon as I'm finished." Dutch nodded as Ronnie lifted the duffle bag, and watched him as he hurried out of the barn.

Something strange was going on, here.

* * *

**A/N: So confusing :D and so much drama! **


	4. 3

/_You've been the only thing that's right/In all I've done_/ _And I can barely look at you_/_But every single time I do_/_I know we'll make it anywhere_/_Away from here_/

It would be impossible for him to deal with all of this on his own; he needed help. In particular he needed Vic's help; but he couldn't ask Vic to help him, because if he did then Vic would know what he was up to, and it wouldn't go anywhere; which meant he would have to deal with this all by himself; he supposed it was time for him to grip up, now. And-

… was that a gun shot?

Furrowing his brow Ronnie turned around slowly; trying to understand the numbness in his shoulder; had he been shot?

It was a little confusing to see the bartender, and a few other Latino's standing behind him. Two of them looked extremely nervous; and that numbness in his shoulder was starting to burn, and now he was sure he had been shot. "Little late for you to be out here, innit Holmes?" the bartender drawled as he folded his arms over his chest, and Ronnie just grinned.

"I know you." Ronnie said, sounding almost bored as he drew his hand away from his gun, and hooked his thumbs through his belt loops; he already had them on attempted murder of a police officer; he didn't need to draw his gun and shoot them just yet (but he would). They exchanged glances, and the bartender- hadn't it been a drug trafficking charge? Hadn't they taken most of the product, by default giving him less time to serve? Hadn't they… helped him out there?-looked mad. "It's nice to see your old crew was willing to take you back in." Ronnie added with a dismissive shrug as he turned away; trying to ignore the pain in his shoulder.

"Watch your back, holmes."the bartender called, and Ronnie's step faltered slightly; he couldn't believe that little maggot had just threatened him. And one of them had shot him; he couldn't let this go unpunished (but he needed to get to the hospital, because the pain was starting to make him want to curl up and cry; or laugh, he wasn't quite sure.).

Coming to a stop Ronnie turned slowly to look at the, as he pulled his cell phone out; he had a choice here, he realized with one hand on his gun; did he do this the right way, and call it in; or did he do this Strike Team style, and then call in a lie?

The pain was beginning to become unbearable, and he was trembling from the pain, now; but still he didn't move-_they threatened him; they shot him; they wanted to kill him; it was kill or be killed-_he knew he should call for back-up; he knew these men were all ex-cons. He knew that just for carrying a weapon they were going to get arrested; and likely they were carrying drugs.

He had a choice here.

A choice he had to make.

He could change, here and now, or he could go back to Vic.

The Latino's seemed to be getting nervous, and Ronnie knew why; he also knew he was losing a lot of blood, and he felt like he was going to collapse. He felt weak, and dizzy; and he was about to choose to go back to good; but then his phone rang.

Not taking his eyes off of the men Ronnie answered the phone; barely noticing the fact that his breathing was a little heavier than it should be, "Yeah?" he asked, ignoring the waver in his tone,

"Ronnie? Are you okay?" Vic sounded frantic; and without realizing it Ronnie was unsnapping the holster strap,

"I-I've been shot." Ronnie said, and he could see the Latino's realize what his decision had been; Vic was starting to say something, but the reverberating sound of the first shot from his gun drowned the sound out; the next three shots, in quick succession of each other vibrated down his arm; numbing him to the pain flaring in his shoulder.

The men hit the ground, and so did he. "Ronnie? Ronnie answer me!" glancing toward his phone Ronnie laid still on the ground, trying to ignore the searing pain in his shoulder; and the added pain in his side. Reaching out awkwardly he grabbed his phone and drew it up to his ear,

"Vic, I-I need help." He groaned and shifted, trying to get a look at the Latino's, he wasn't sure if he had killed them, or if they were just injured. He could see two running away, one clutching his hand, and the other his shoulder, the two men on the ground were dead, and dying.

"Where are you Ronnie?" he sounded so genuinely concerned that Ronnie knew he had made the right decision in choosing Vic.

* * *

"Are you okay?" Vic still sounded concerned, and Ronnie smiled slightly; though in all honesty he was a little annoyed that the doctors had shaved his beard to stich his cheek where one of the bullets had nearly killed him; would have if he hadn't been shifting his weight as he pulled his gun out. "You know" Vic said as he suddenly reached out and caught Ronnie by the chin, turning his head so that he could look at the stiches in his cheek, "Lem hasn't seen you without a beard since… since the accident." He grinned as he drew he hand back, and against his better judgment Ronnie chuckled, "He isn't going to recognize you." Vic said jokingly; but there was something in the tone of his voice that made Ronnie feel strangely ashamed of himself.

"Why were you out there, Ronnie?" Vic asked suddenly as he took a seat in the chair next to Ronnie's bed, and slipped his sunglasses into his pocket, "You said you wanted to talk, but you were nowhere to be found."

"And I wouldn't answer my phone." Ronnie concluded with a sigh. Vic remained silent, and Ronnie knew he was waiting for answers, and he knew he would have to give them; just like he would have to give them to IA. But there was no way IA would believe any of his bullshit stories; just like Vic wouldn't, either.

Maybe they both know that he's going nowhere fast with his lies; because they remain silent, Vic looking at the floor, and Ronnie looking at the wall. In the old days they would be talking about a lie to tell; because that would cover both of their asses; but he isn't that guy any more, and the fact that he killed two people tonight (_doesn't bother him_)… that proves that he's changed far too much. And he isn't sure he wants to think about that right now.

"He was following up on a lead." They both turn their attention to the doorway, where Shane is walking in, nervously glancing back as he closes the door, and rushes to the side of Ronnie's bed, giving him a strange look, "We got a tip that there was gonna be a big deal there, and we sent Ronnie because everyone knows us, Vic." Ronnie frowned as Shane spoke; quickly, and nervously; his voice a little higher than it should be, "But one of the guys-" he motioned toward Vic, "was that bartender, Alejandro, and he recognized Ronnie from when ya'll took him down way back when" he uselessly motioned over his shoulder to indicate that it had been years ago, "they shot first"

"They did." Ronnie sounded more annoyed than he was willing to admit to being,

"-so it was self-defense. You'll be fine, buddy." Furrowing his brow Ronnie looked over at Vic, who seemed to be contemplating this.

"Shane and I are going to go pick that scumbag up." Vic said as he stood up and looked at Ronnie, "Get some rest, and… don't worry about it, Ronnie. You'll be fine." And just like that they were back to business as usual; and Ronnie watched them walk out of the room; only able to think one thing, _what's Lem going to think of me?_

* * *

"Ronnie!" he knew he should open his eyes, but he remained still, even when he felt Lem's hand on his shoulder; he knew he should say something, but he didn't want to face the questions Lem was going to ask; he didn't want to admit he was lost, and he didn't know how to make his way home, again.

The bed dipped down slightly as Lem sat next to him on the bed, and his mind kicked into over-drive; what would happen if he lost his job? What would happen to Lem? Why had he listened to Shane? Why had he lied? The truth was fine; the truth would have worked. If he was just a little-

-Ronnie tensed when he felt Lem's lips against his forehead. What was he doing that for?

"Are you okay, Ronnie?" Lem asked as he sat up straight, and reached down to grab Ronnie's hand, "Are you just going to ignore me?"

"What are you doing?" Ronnie reluctantly asked as he opened his eyes, and looked down to where Lem was holding his hand, that was… awkward.

"Why didn't I hear from anyone until today?" he looked, and sounded sad, and Ronnie felt terrible. "I had no idea what had happened to you. I couldn't get anyone to talk to me-and Dutch stopped by yesterday for lunch, and he had a lot of weird questions." Ronnie cursed under his breath, but Lem continued speaking, "Finally I just went down to the barn" Ronnie could see the hurt in Lem's expression before he looked away "and Vic told me what had happened." Ronnie knew that tone of voice; the tone that was saying he was feeling forgotten; alone.

There had been a time before when Ronnie had heard Lem speak like that. A couple, actually. He wanted to make that tone change; he wanted to see Lem smiling again. "It's my fault." Ronnie said suddenly; suddenly gripping Lem's hand, "I didn't want to worry you, but I… I obviously went about it the wrong way." Lem shifted in his seat, and turned to look at Ronnie, almost contemplatively.

"Lem, I…" sighing Ronnie used his free hand to push himself up, and Lem quickly shifted over, helping him sit up, "I've been an ass," that hadn't come out the way he had wanted it to, "ever since you got back I've been really distant. And I know that-and I know it's hurt you, and I'm sorry for that, I really am. But I had no idea where we stood, and I… I didn't want to do something that might be embarrassing."

Grinning Lem shook his head slightly, and then to Ronnie's surprise he asked, "Something like what?"

Now, Ronnie thought, would be a good time to stop this; to bring it back to normal. Now might be a good time to change. And yet Ronnie found himself leaning forward, and raising a hand to Lem's cheek; tentatively pressing his lips to Lem's, he expected the other man to jerk back; to get angry, but Lem was returning the kiss, eagerly.

And Ronnie had never had lying get him into such a pleasant situation before; but he was damn glad he had let it get him here today, because he wouldn't trade this moment for anything else.

* * *

**A/N: I feel like this story would benefit from me actually writing the background for these events... Hmm. **


	5. 4

/_Now, who shall I marry the junky or the jailer?_ /_Your choices are few when they know you're a failure/_

"I spoke with I.A." Vic said as he sat in the chair next to Ronnie's bed, "The doctors, too. They said you're lucky to be able to retain any movement in your arm." He offered a smile as he said it; but there was something in his expression as he looked at Ronnie that had never been there before, he was obviously worried about something; but Ronnie couldn't place what it was.

"What did I.A say?" Ronnie asked as he shifted slightly, grimacing as pain shot through his shoulder; the pain was nearly unbearable. And the fact that it was his right shoulder made it a lot worse, considering Lem had made him a little… excitable last night, before leaving.

"Well, it isn't official just yet, but I don't think you'll be getting in trouble." Vic said grinning as he pulled his sunglasses off, and continued to give Ronnie that… strange look. "I expect you'll be back to work soon." Vic added; but didn't wait for Ronnie's confirmation, or denial on the matter, before continuing to talk, "It's a good thing Lem is still staying with you" he added as he glanced toward the window, "you'll be able to recover faster with him there." Ronnie wasn't entirely sure how to respond to that, so he remained silent.

The tone Vic had used when speaking about Lem almost implied that he… thought there was something going on between the two of them. Ronnie couldn't confirm, or deny that. He knew Vic must have some reason to say it that way; some kind of clue; a hint.

Which meant someone must have seen them and told Vic; but the question was who?

"Hey-" they both turned their attention to the doorway; where Lem stood. "Oh. I didn't realize anyone was-" raising a hand Lem rubbed the back of his neck, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth as he tentatively moved toward the bed, "in here."

"What's wrong?" Vic asked jokingly, grinning, "You don't like me so good anymore?" standing slowly he motioned for Lem to sit down, "Don't worry about it, Lemmy, I was just leaving." Vic said smiling lovingly at the younger man, as he patted his arm, "I'll see you later Ronnie-Lem, why don't you come over to see me tonight?" Lem nodded, and Vic waved at Ronnie before leaving the room.

"Hey, Dutch came over" Lem said as he took the seat next to the bed, and Ronnie furrowed his brow, obviously confused, Ronnie cursed under his breath, and Lem raised an eyebrow, "he was looking for you. So I told him you were here. I guess he hasn't come to see you yet?"

Shaking his head slightly, Ronnie raised a hand and motioned toward the curtain; hoping Lem would draw it shut "Thankfully, no he hasn't." Lem nodded as he rose from his seat, and drew the curtain, as Ronnie had wanted him to.

Stopping beside Ronnie's bed, he placed a hand on the railing and leaned down; dangerously close, almost as if he wanted a kiss; but he didn't move in; his eyes were searching Ronnie's. Almost like he thought that even after last night Ronnie wouldn't want this; so Ronnie just smiled and shifted forward, pressing his lips to Lem's.

* * *

His hair was a lot softer than Ronnie had expected it to be. And his touches were much lighter; almost tentative; nervous. But that didn't matter because Lem was kissing him; Lem was touching him. And he really knew all of the right ways to touch him; it was suspicious; almost as if he had been couched.

But Ronnie didn't care because Lem was _incredible_. And this was amazing; by far the best time Ronnie had ever had with someone _touching_ him. And the funny thing is there's clothes (well, a hospital gown) between his skin, and Lem's hand.

Letting out a soft moan Ronnie shifted slightly, twisting Lem's shirt around his hand, and dragging him down for a kiss, as Lem slipped his hand under the robe and _touched_ him. This was killing him; mainly because he only had use of one hand; but partially because they were in a public place; and sort of because he was starting to feel shy, due to being in a public place.

Feeling shy, but unwilling to lose this chance, Ronnie disentangled his hand from Lem's shirt, and ran his hand down Lem's chest; dropping his hand down, he hooked his fingers in one of the belt loops, and gave a slight tug (not that it did anything, but alert Lem that he wanted him to get up in bed, not just stand beside and touch him, not giving Ronnie the chance to reciprocate). Laughing breathlessly against Ronnie's lips, Lem shifted forward; tentatively climbing up onto the bed.

It wasn't that Ronnie didn't understand his hesitancy to climb onto the bed; but he just care. Lem wasn't going to hurt him, he knew that; and he was sure Lem knew that, too.

As Lem's fingers wrapped around his erection, Ronnie pushed into his touch; ignoring the spike of pain in his shoulder, and side; as he unbuttoned, and unzipped Lem's pants, and slipped his hand inside; ignoring how awkward this was considering the pain, and annoyance of using one hand.

* * *

It wasn't unusual for Ronnie to do something like draw the curtain around his hospital bed (though it was kind of amusing that he was in the hospital so much that it was a regular occurrence for him to draw the curtain around the bed). So when he came into the room, Shane didn't think anything of it, but as he walked over to the curtain he was a little confused to hear Ronnie moan; what could he be doing?

Well, a more accurate question would probably be; who was he doing?

He wanted to chuckle at his own internal joke; but that would alert Ronnie and whoever he was with to his presence; so Shane remained silent, and stood where he was, listening; and feeling like he should leave. It was a little inappropriate for him to stand here and listen to this; but he told himself he was just here to keep any of the nurses from walking in and seeing Ronnie in an awkward situation.

He was a good guy like that.

And besides that; this might be interesting.

It was kind of strange to stand here listening to his friend getting off; but there was a certain degree of amusement to it, but he seriously doubted anyone else would understand that; not even Vic. Hell, if he was honest with himself he didn't understand what he was doing listening to this, either. But it didn't, wouldn't matter; as long as he didn't get caught standing here.

It was kind of funny; but a little weird because he was suddenly craving a cigarette. And the sound of that breathless chuckle, so clearly a man's; so clearly not Ronnie; but so obviously someone he knew, made Shane take an involuntary step forward. Lem? Was he really with Lem? That didn't make any sense!

They weren't gay. Neither of them were gay; he and Vic would have noticed a long time ago if they were gay; particularly if they were gay, and together.

He was tempted to call Vic, but he knew that wouldn't work out so well in his favor. Likely Vic would be mad at him for standing around listening to Ronnie and Lem… get off. Besides it was so awkward he could barely admit it to himself; let alone Vic.

Shaking his head Shane turned away, quickly and walked out of the room. Maybe Vic would have a case for them when he got back to the barn. He certainly hoped so.

**A/N: =D **

**I'm totally working on a "Previously in" part xD **


	6. Previously

/_Five'll get ya ten/Old Macky's back in town_/_Now did ya hear about Louie Miller? He disappeared, babe_/_After drawin' out all his hard-earned cash_/_And now MacHeath spends just like a sailor_/_Could it be our boy's done somethin' rash?/_

His first day as detective; detective! He was actually a detective now! He couldn't believe this; it was amazing. It was everything he had worked so hard for; and he was ready to take it on. And he was ready to climb his way up the ladder; and not stop until he was all the way at the top.

And he would start that climb right now… as soon as he remembered how to breathe, again.

There was no reason for him to be feeling this anxious; no reason for him to be so nervous. And definitely no reason for him to be hiding in the bathroom. He felt like he was back in high school; hiding from all of the bullies (not that he would have needed to hide if he would have defended himself; but he had been painfully shy).

It was his first day as detective, and he had no idea why he had wanted this to begin with. He had work to do; and a partner to meet; and a job to do; and so much pressure was being applied to him; and he was fucking scared. Fortunately for him it must have been a regular occurrence for detectives to stand in the bathroom, gripping the sink hard enough to turn their knuckles white; because no one was concerned with him.

Though he was starting to feel a little dizzy he stayed where he was, and avoided looking at his own reflection; he couldn't bear to see himself broken (breaking?) like this without a reason. He was sure his brother would tell him that there was a reason behind this breakdown; there was a reason behind everything; but he didn't buy into that bull. He knew he was only standing here falling to pieces because he was weak.

The sound of the door opening was a lot louder now than it had been earlier, and he closed his eyes, and inhaled deeply; he would be okay if he could just get himself to let go of the porcelain and leave the bathroom; if he could just plaster on a smile, and put some sunglasses on. If he could just hide behind something he would be fine.

"Gardocki?" his eyes fluttered open, and he glanced toward the man who was standing by the door; he thought he recognized him, but he wasn't sure. "You're really the new detective?" he sounded, and looked, amused, "You look like a goddamn baby!" he said as he approached him, extending his hand, "Victor Mackey; everyone calls me Vic."

"R-Ronald Gardocki." He said as he forced his fingers away from the porcelain, and reached out to shake Vic's hand; he could feel the tremor in his own hand; but Vic disregarded it, and grinned at him,

"Anyone ever call you Ronnie?" he asked, and Ronald shook his head slightly, looking a little unsure, "Mind if I do?" Vic asked; knowing full well that something as small as some friendly camaraderie could go a long way with a detective as green (_naïve; easily swayed; able to be used_) as this man.

Unable to help it Ronald found himself grinning, "Sure." He said, ignoring the way his voice pitched as he said it; that tended to happen when he got happy; excited; tense. And to his relief; Vic ignored it, too.

"Hey-" Vic said as he motioned Ronnie to follow him, "you're going to be working with me for a while." He said grinning; his own partner was off on vacation (Shane took any, and every chance he could to hit Vegas), and they had yet to assign one to Ronnie. Vic had volunteered because he had known Ronnie's T.O, and had felt like the kid wouldn't have gotten a partner for a while; if he didn't get someone to help him out that first week; someone to help him kick his patrol habits; someone to teach him he wasn't walking a beat again.

Looking relieved, and surprised Ronnie followed Vic out of the bathroom; and some of the other detectives in the room thought it almost looked like a puppy rushing after its owner; which would start snide, nasty comments about Ronnie being Vic's lapdog; his whipping boy, for years to come. "We've already got a case." Vic said as he paused beside his desk, and picked the folder up; he was glad this would be easy; his own first case had been a nightmare, and he didn't want to give Ronnie any reason to want to go back to walking a beat.

If he could get the other man to feel a little more self-assured he would come in handy someday. And Vic was looking forward to that. He could tell, even if Ronnie couldn't (or wasn't willing to admit to, anyway), that he was going to make something of himself; he could tell the other man wasn't going to be scared the rest of his life.

* * *

It was still nearly impossible for him to feel like he was anything more than a little boy playing dress-up, but he was sort of enjoying himself. Vic was nice, and he did all of the talking; as a matter of fact, he did most of the work. But Ronnie didn't mind, Vic told him it was training.

He was sort of enjoying himself; or he had been, until right now. He was sure that what Vic had just done was illegal on many levels; many levels he wasn't sure he wanted to talk about. So many levels, in fact, that he was absolutely terrified he was going to hit the ground from his recent position on a pedestal at mach speed. And it would fucking hurt.

"Vic…" his voice was shaky, and he wasn't really sure what to say after that. To be honest he didn't know why he had spoken at all; his first instinct had been to turn and run (_run, run, run away and never come back-_someday he would learn that this hair trigger instinct was probably his safest one).

(_Run_) Ronnie took an unconscious step backward, but he was reaching out toward Vic; the conflictions he was feeling right now were confusing him, and he thought that at the end of the day he would probably be freaking out. His hand tentatively touched Vic's shoulder, and the older man shrugged his shoulder off, glaring back at him; and Ronnie realized that Vic was just as upset over this incident as he was (probably about different things, but that didn't matter).

He looked worried, and Ronnie realized that Vic probably thought he was going to turn him in. and hell, why shouldn't he? It wasn't like Vic was his friend or anything (just the closest thing to a friend he had), he wanted to reassure Vic (mostly because if Vic went down, he likely would, too), but he was pretty sure this guy laying at their feet was going to die if he didn't get help (and he wondered if it should worry him at all that his only concern in this moment was how this guy dying would screw up his plans; he didn't even care if the guy died).

They needed to cover their asses, he realized; and they needed to start now. "It's going to be okay." Ronnie finally said; the slight waver to his voice had disappeared, and he seemed calm; perfectly in control. "But we need to take care of this" Vic was giving him a strange look, and Ronnie quickly pulled his handkerchief from his pocket, and reached out, tentatively wiping the blood from Vic's face he looked down at the guy at Vic's feet; he had lived the life, so Ronnie doubted he would want to be remembered as dying anyway but as a thug. So that's what they had to make this look like.

It was as simple as making this look like a rival gang had done this, and he and Vic would be clear.

There was something in Vic's eyes as he watched Ronnie, it was difficult to name; but Ronnie thought if he had to put a name to it, the look would be gratitude. "We need to make this look like a gang hit." He said calmly, and Vic nodded as he took the handkerchief and began wiping the blood from his hands, "And you'll need to get rid of that" he motioned toward Vic's suit, "before we go back to the precinct."

After a moment of watching Ronnie Vic grinned, "You're going to be okay, you know Ronnie?" he asked as he moved to help the other man position the body,

"Let's hope so." Ronnie said chuckling (many years later he would probably look back on this situation and think to himself that he really, really hadn't turned out okay.).

* * *

**A/N: This was a lot harder to write than it logically should have been. **

**It should have been better xD But I can't stop playing/thinking of Need For Speed.  
**


	7. 5

/_So tell me what you want to hear/Something that will light those years/Sick of all the insincere/So I'm gonna give all my secrets away/This time, don't need another perfect lie_/

It got boring, after a while, to have people visiting you all the time; it was ridiculously boring being in the hospital. Even his visits from Lem weren't making this stay any better; or easier. Being stuck in the hospital depressed him, though he didn't want to acknowledge the reason behind it. And when he got depressed he became irritable; and mean.

And that really affected his relationships; in an extremely negative way.

It seemed like Vic was the only one to understand; because he was the only one who ignored his snide comments and emotionless responses (though Ronnie really didn't understand how he was bothering anyone by seeming emotionless; he was always cold and indifferent; emotionless.). Vic was here now, talking about what was going on at work; and when Ronnie would be getting out of here (and what they would do when he did); and the visit was at least tolerable, to the point that he didn't actually feel like asking Vic to leave.

"So anyway, Corinne and I were talking, and-" Vic stopped as he looked up where a Hispanic woman had yanked the curtain open, forcing a smile, though obviously irritated, and confused, Vic glanced toward Ronnie, and then back to the woman, who was looking around the area, as if looking for something (or someone), before she let her gaze fall on them, "Can I help you?" Vic asked, managing not to sound annoyed,

"You're that pig who set my brother up." She said; and to their surprise she was looking at Ronnie, and ignoring Vic,

Exchanging glances with Vic Ronnie laughed; they both knew it couldn't be him she was looking for, because Ronnie didn't do shit like that, "Lady I think you're in the wrong room." Ronnie said, waving his hand toward her; as if dismissing her; which seemed to infuriate her.

"No," she snapped, and it was only then that Vic noticed the baby pram behind her, "it was you." She said angrily. And Vic frowned as he stood up, to get a better look at the baby in the pram; she didn't seem to notice (or maybe she just didn't care), so Vic stepped to the end of the bed, where he could see into the pram,

"I've never set anyone up in my life." Ronnie said, sounding irritated, as he pushed himself into a sitting position, trying not to grimace in pain as he did so; Vic thought he should be more careful, but Ronnie didn't care, he just wanted this woman to leave,

"You helped." She insisted, crossing her arms, and glaring at him, barely refraining from snapping at the woman, Ronnie just stared at her; she was familiar. He was sure he knew her; but he couldn't quite place her,

"Ma'am" Vic said suddenly, and she glared at him, but he didn't seem to notice, or care; he was looking at the pram still, "what's your name?"

"Tigre Orozco!" she snapped; and without even realizing it was going to happen, with no way to stop himself, Ronnie gasped audibly. Now he realized why he recognized her. She had been Lem's girlfriend up until the day he had been locked up; she was the girlfriend he never talked to; never told her what had happened; and though he was sure Lem had written Tigre, he felt partially responsible that the two of them had broken up.

The silence that fell over the room made Ronnie feel like he was suffocating; and he really wasn't sure what to think about this (or why she was bringing that whole thing with her brother up; they had made it right). And then he saw Vic moving forward, looking at the pram; and he tried to focus his attention on it, tried to understand what was about to happen; but all he could think about was losing something he didn't, really, have yet.

"That kid" Vic said tentatively, and Tigre turned slightly to look at the pram, "he's cute." There was something in Vic's tone of voice; and Ronnie knew he was hesitating. And he wished he would just stop; he didn't want the conclusion that he knew he should be expecting; he didn't want to hear the words he knew Tigre was going to say. He really didn't want to believe this was about to fall apart, before they were even on solid ground.

"Yeah," Tigre said as she moved over to the pram, followed by a wary looking Vic, "he's adorable." She looked up at Vic, and then looked over at Ronnie, and she looked almost smug as she added, "Just like his father." Vic frowned, and Ronnie closed his eyes, looking away; and just barely resisting the urge to say something,

It was quite obvious what she was implying; and no matter how much it annoyed him he wasn't going to play into her games; he was going to ignore it, and he was just going to pretend he didn't understand what it was she meant. "Why are you here?" Ronnie finally asked, as Tigre pushed the pram closer to the bed, and took Vic's seat next to his bed,

"I want to see someone." She said firmly, and Ronnie opened his eyes to glare at her,

"Unless that person is in this room" Ronnie snapped evidently angry "I see no reason for you to be in here." He wanted, unsurprisingly, to hit her.

"Oh," she leaned forward narrowing her eyes at Ronnie, "he will be here. I heard from my cousin that he's here every day." Sneering at her Ronnie gripped the blanket to and dropped his gaze to the bed; and Vic was honestly surprised to see him so angry; he had never seen Ronnie respond so emotionally to… anything.

Tentatively walking over to sit on the edge of the bed Vic patted Ronnie's leg absentmindedly "So you want to see Lem." He observed, and Tigre just glared at him as she leaned back in the chair, and crossed her arms over her chest, watching the door.

**A/N: So... this chapter has actually been finished about a week now, but I've been hesitating to upload it because I was trying to finish the next one, so I could upload them at the same time. **


	8. 6

/_Saying everything I've said before/ All these words they make no sense/ I find bliss in ignorance/Less I hear the less you'll say/You'll find that out anyway_/

They were all silent, as Vic say on the edge of his bed, and Tigre sat beside him; and he tried to avoid looking at the boy in the pram. The kid couldn't be much older than twenty four, maybe thirty months old; honestly he wasn't very good at approximating ages, but he was pretty sure that this child would have been born before Lem had been incarcerated. It was a cute kid though, there was no denying that.

As much as he didn't care for kids, he couldn't help but think about how happy it would make Lem to have a kid around; and he knew that if it came down to it Lem would pick the kid over him, so he would have to make sure he didn't give Lem that option. If it was Lem's kid then the kid would have to come first; and for all his understanding of that he knew it would hurt like hell, when the time came, to allow Lem to put Tigre and the baby before him; but he also knew he wasn't going to acknowledge the pain, and he wasn't going to mention it.

But that didn't make him any less angry about it; or annoyed with Tigre for showing up here, when she clearly had no place here, why couldn't she have called Lem, he wondered bitterly as he shifted his gaze to the doorway just in time to see Shane walking over; he looked agitated, and it made Ronnie wonder how long he had been without a smoke. "Hey" Shane started as he walked in raising a hand slightly in greeting, before he noticed Tigre sitting beside the bed and stopped looking confused, "… little early for hookers, innit Ronnie?" he joked as he tentatively walked into the room; and they all ignored Tigre's sound of indignation.

"Hi." Ronnie drawled, sounding bored despite his anger; likely Shane wouldn't realize he was upset at all; though Ronnie knew, by the look Vic was giving him that Vic knew how mad he was, "What are you doing here so early?" Ronnie inquired, ignoring Vic's stares.

"Oh… Jackson needed to come in. Thought I would come see you real quick." Shane shrugged slightly as he moved over to stand at the end of the bed, glancing toward Tigre, "I'm Shane." He said politely, and she just glared at him,

"Shouldn't you be with your son?" Ronnie asked, a little confused; he wasn't sure he could remember a time his mother had ever left him unattended (his father was a different story, but the way things had been going with Shane and Mara since the baby was born, it always seemed like Shane was the mother and Mara was the father; what with the way she ignored the children. Ronnie had to wonder, though, who took care of the kids while Shane was at work? Because he knew Mara worked, too).

"He's fine." Shane said evasively, causing Ronnie to frown, and Vic to raise an eyebrow,

"Okay." Ronnie said disbelievingly, and then added "Have you seen Lem today?"

Seeming a bit tentative Shane motioned vaguely toward the door, "He said he didn't think you would feel like seeing him today, so I think he stayed home." Ronnie let out a frustrated sigh, and began fiddling with the bed controls, to sit it up, and Shane raised an eyebrow at him, "You've been damn temperamental lately, Ronnie." He said honestly causing Ronnie to glower at him.

"Will you just call him, and tell him to get down here?" Ronnie asked, sounding more irritated than he had intended to; and his tone seemed to surprise Shane, but the other man took his phone out regardless, and began dialing Lem's number, raising the phone to his ear he stepped away from the bed causing Ronnie to smile slightly; he wasn't sure why, but it was highly amusing that Shane wanted to conceal the conversation with Lem from him.

Turning his attention to Tigre Ronnie continued to remain indifferent to the situation; though he was actually still aggravated over the whole situation. "Your kid looks bored." He commented, and she raised an eyebrow at him, seeming slightly amused, "You should walk it or something." He added causing her to glare at him,

"He's a child, not a dog." She snapped, looking away and muttering something under her breath in Spanish. Leaning back slightly Ronnie disregarded her and looked out the window, idly wondering about Jackson; and why Shane was bringing him to the hospital.

They didn't have to wait long for Lem to get there, though Shane had left the awkwardly silent room not long after he had called the other man (but Ronnie suspected he would be back, soon); but when Lem did get there he seemed confused to see Tigre there. "Hi…" he said tentatively as entered the room, raising a hand to greet Tigre, before turning his attention to Ronnie, "What's going on?"

"Oh," Ronnie said glancing toward Tigre, "she stopped by with this baby, and she says" he hesitated glancing at Vic, who shrugged slightly, and then Ronnie turned his attention to Tigre as she stood up and placed her hands on her hips and glared at Lem, "that this-"

"It's nice to see you again Curtis." She said in a snappish manner, and Ronnie rolled his eyes as he leaned back on the bed, "It would have been a lot nicer if you had called me." She added raising an eyebrow slightly, and Lem looked slightly confused,

"Called you?" Lem echoed, hesitantly moving over to the bed, "Why… would I?" he asked frowning as he looked down at the baby in the pram as he approached them, and Ronnie was quite positive he saw a flicker recognition in Lem's expression.

"I can think of a few reasons." Tigre said as she folded her arms across her chest, and glowered at him, Lem quirked a brow, but remained silent, and Tigre motioned toward the baby in the pram; to both Vic and Ronnie's surprise Lem took a slight step back, and canted his head to the side, giving Tigre a look as if to say 'are you serious?'

Confused Vic and Ronnie watched them in silence as Lem stared at Tigre, and Tigre glared at Lem; it was an interesting turn of events, that was for sure, but Ronnie didn't know what to make of it; he really just wished Lem would say something. "Are you trying to say" Lem finally started, "that this is my son?" Tigre looked affronted, but remained silent, so Lem continued "When did you have him, Tigre?" he asked, and she narrowed her eyes at him, but didn't respond, so he grinned and shook his head slightly, "That's not my son." He added, and before any of them could react to his words Tigre slapped him, quickly grabbing the handle to the pram and quickly left the room.

Scowling Lem rubbed his cheek and turned to Ronnie and Vic, who both looked shocked, and slightly disappointed; "What the hell, Lem?" Vic finally said and Lem shrugged slightly,

"It was her cousin's baby. I recognized him" he motioned vaguely and added, "he has a mole under his left eye. And Tigre used to watch him when we were dating… I guess she didn't think I would recognize him, or something."

"Maybe she just wanted to talk." Vic suggested as he slowly stood up just as Shane reentered the room carrying Jackson, who looked tired,

"I'll call her?" Lem shrugged and Vic waved it off, turning toward Shane as he approached the bed,

Pausing beside the bed Shane sat Jackson down on the bed, much to Ronnie's distaste with the situation of having a child so near to him, "What happened with that woman?" he asked glancing at Lem,

"She was a liar." Lem offered, and Shane nodded and turned toward Vic, and to Ronnie's annoyance Jackson came closer, and laid down against him, shifting into a more comfortable position, before resting his head on Ronnie's arm and closing his eyes.

"Lem didn't really talk to her." Vic corrected, and Shane glanced at the blond, "But he's going to call her and see what she wanted." Lem nodded as Vic said this, but remained silent as he moved over to sit in the chair beside Ronnie's bed,

"Oh. That's good." Shane said distractedly as he watched Jackson begin to drift off to sleep, "I should take Jackson home, he's worn out."

"Yeah." Ronnie said looking down at the boy and resisting the urge to smile; the kid was rather adorable, actually,

"I'll see ya'll later." Shane said as he picked Jackson up, and waved at Vic before leaving the room,

"Actually I have to go pick Cassidy up." Vic said looking at his watch, before glancing at Lem, and then looking at Ronnie, "I'll see you tomorrow." He said waving at Ronnie and Lem, before turning and leaving.

Remaining silent for a moment Ronnie picked at a loose thread on his blanket, while Lem watched him curiously, "… are you mad at me, Ronnie?" he asked tentatively,

"No." Ronnie said softly, "Just confused." The anger from earlier had diminished, leaving him feeling exhausted, Lem offered a smile and reached out to cover Ronnie's hand with his own, Ronnie tried to smile but he couldn't quite get himself to force the smile; and though he wanted to turn his hand over and hold Lem's he found himself gripping the blanket.

He felt more than confused, though he didn't want to really admit it; he felt scared, scared of losing what he had only just gained. He felt so many things that he had never felt before, and though he desperately wanted to tell Lem of some of the things he was feeling, he was afraid of how it would come out; afraid he would come on too strong; most of all he was afraid to admit what he was feeling, because he was (if he was totally honest with himself) afraid to feel human.

Though he could tell Ronnie was refraining from saying something Lem leaned forward and kissed Ronnie's cheek; he didn't care if Ronnie wanted to keep his feelings inside, he could tell the other man cared about him, otherwise he wouldn't have been upset about Tigre.

"It's okay, Ronnie." Lem said softly as he stroked the top of the other man's hand with his thumb, he wanted to say more, but he left it hanging there. Some time Ronnie would get around his inability to say someone was important to him; and Lem could wait however long it took for that day to come.

**A/N: OhmyGod that took forever x.x.**


	9. End

/_And for all you know/This could be/The difference between what you need/And what you wanna be_/

"Apparently I.A is clearing me." Ronnie said as he leaned in the doorway, watching Vic almost nervously, the older man looked up from the paperwork a grinning Shane had handed him; and Ronnie saw something there in his eyes, something that almost looked like disappointment.

"You don't look too pleased there, buddy." Shane said as she moved over to Ronnie, reaching out and slapping his shoulder, "You coming back to work soon?"

"No." Shane looked taken aback, and Vic looked confused, "That bullet…" Ronnie shrugged slightly; the anger he was feeling right now was a lot harder to control than he had expected it to be; and suddenly they seemed to take notice of his suit; the fact that he was hovering in the doorway, and Ronnie dropped his eyes to the floor, he couldn't stand that look of confusion on Shane's face; or the hurt on Vic's, "My shoulder is-… I won't be able to do-" he motioned vaguely toward them, "this anymore."

"What?" Vic sounded as if someone had shot _him_, and Ronnie shrugged, not really sure how to answer,

"What are-… what are we going to do without you, Ronnie?" Shane asked, though that was furthest from his mind right now,

"Replace me, I suppose." Ronnie said, shrugging slightly, and taking a step back, out of the doorway, "I have to talk to the captain before I go to my physical therapy. I just… I thought I should be the one to tell you."

"Are you coming back to work at all?" Shane demanded, and Ronnie looked at him, slightly agitated,

"If I can."

* * *

He's sure things will work out fine in the end; Vic will replace him, and the Strike Team will grow stronger for the loss of him, and he'll watch from the background as Vic and Shane go on, and on; and on (_on, on, on; higher and further_). He'll try to pretend that he isn't bothered, he'll try to pretend it doesn't hurt.

He'll try to ignore the dull throb in his chest, and he'll try to rest ease at night; he'll try not to remember the days when he would laugh and drink, and eat and live and _exist_ with Vic and Shane (and once upon a time Lem, too).

He'll try to believe that they-weren't- _aren't_ a part of his life.

He'll go on saying he isn't bothered; he will go home at night and he will smile; and Lem will talk to him (occasionally they will kiss, and they will touch; and the fire of Lem's passion will threaten to consume him, and he will feel like he is drowning in the kisses; crushed breathless under the weight of Lem's gaze; and breaking beneath his hands). And he will be okay.

Or so he will say.

The things he's feeling will be forgotten, and he will find himself falling into a routine. It will be back to boring old detective work, leading a boring old life, with boring cases; and near certainty tells him that he'll never be shot again.

Maybe he'll transfer out; maybe he'll climb his way up the ranks; maybe he'll do a lot of things. Maybe he won't be bothered; maybe he'll be too busy to feel the regret that's burning the back of his throat. Maybe he'll be too composed to cry when he gets home tonight; maybe he'll be strong, for once in his life.

He'll be okay; things will be okay; they'll be fine.

Or so he tells himself.

But when he is called into the captains office any hopes for normalcy come crashing down around him when he sees the federal agent standing at the window, with her arms folded over her chest. "Ronald Gardocki" her voice is rough; and she looks tired, angry, "it's been a while." She's condescending and he can't speak.

"We need your help Ronnie-… or should I say Gregory?" his breath escapes him, and he finds that he really didn't have very long to wait before his world would come crashing down around him, and things would fall to pieces where he would never be able to pick them up again.

it's near impossible to breathe, now, and he finds himself sitting slowly down, and closing his eyes; wondering if he'll get to say goodbye to his friends, before he loses everything important to him.

This time.

And yet, he already knows he won't.

* * *

**A/N**: Okay this might seem awkward to end on, but... to start with the fic was supposed to end like this.

I just hesitated in uploading this for... so long, because I wasn't really sure I wanted to go through with it; but in the end I decided it was best to do as I had wanted.

Which means there may end up being a sequel to this, which will... still be a R/L fic, but it would be a crossover. I haven't decided whether or not to finish it though (I have several other ideas at the moment, for other fics; so I may work on those first).


End file.
